


Burn.

by deitaru



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Fire, Just some words from a man who thinks too highly of himself, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deitaru/pseuds/deitaru





	Burn.

You say I feel nothing, that the words out of my mouth are laced behind walls of self preservation, but does nothing burn?   
Can nothing catch fire as the crackle of flames stretch across flesh that was made to feel charred and stripped of every ounce of humanity it’s ever possessed? 

To think that only the flames themselves are capable of being real- that the mess they leave behind, blackened and sooty does not bear its own weight is as childish as hoping that a situation wrought in miscommunication could ever be something more than a missed opportunity.  
That the house we built together on a foundation of fear and uncertainty could stand once you found a warm place to rest your head against the chest of someone who could keep you safe. 

To tell me that my feelings are selfish are to disregard the meaning of feelings themselves, as a personal experience caused by an impersonal discord.   
Between the two of us there were never words. Soft touches and smiles and the shared feeling of a soda bottle between lips once, and then twice as we drank what was in- not thinking, not caring, that one day we might grow thirsty again. But to speak of what cascaded in our chests when we looked upon each other was forbidden. In those moments we knew that opening our mouths and speaking so much louder as the exhale of breaths between kisses would topple every fragile state of being we had entered ourselves into. 

And as you let the fire seep into your lips and out between them, over my chin and down my chest it burned. 

Yata- no, Misaki- it burned. But to say that I myself felt that fire would be a lie. I felt nothing at first, only warmth, as you desperately tried to get me to produce flames of my own but not realizing that as you burned me you burned away my ability to be that person you so desperately needed me to be. I cannot be fire. I cannot lift my head and scream into the heavens the feelings I held so dear to my heart that now just steam silently in the pit of my stomach where you left them to rot. 

You scream that I feel nothing, your face inches from my own. But you forget that I had been burned before, and that the last thing I had ever come to expect was that the hand that had pulled me from the fire initially would have been the hand to push me into a new one. And I burned. And I kept on burning as the fire grew hotter, from my fingertips to rise up into my chest and then spill up and out of my eyes like every volcano that had ever cried.


End file.
